Dark Princes and Naughty Evils
by Witchy-grrl
Summary: A drunken Willow, a hot Slytherin, and a "Will Be Done" spell...God help us all...


Dark Princes and Naughty Evils (1/?)

Author: witchy_grrl

Disclaimer: No claim of ownership here…Nope nope…Otherwise Joss Whedon and JK Rowling will hex my butt…Or send demons…Whichever they prefer…Not that I want to know…This is purely for my own twisted pleasure…Yup yup.

Timeline: Takes place right after Willow's "Will-be-Done" spell Season 4 (at least I think it's Season 4).  Difference?: Willow's spell hasn't ended…yet.

Pairing: Willow/Tom Riddle, with a slight hint of Tom Riddle/Minerva McGonagall to please my friend Yoshi…Happy, girl? :)

Premise: This is out of a little challenge I made for myself:

What if you take Willow, her "Will-Be-Done" spell, a Harry Potter book, one of the more mature (::hack hack::  ::cough cough::) men in the HP universe, and mix them all together?  What wackiness would you get?

I'm planning to make this into a sort of series.  Well, a X-amount-part series whose parts have nothing to do with each other…ENJOY WHILE MY MUSE IS STILL WORKING! 

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PART ONE

"Can't believe I've been kicked out of my dorm…" Willow mumbled as she walked down her old street towards her parents' house.  "Well," she paused, "not kicked out…I left of my own free will…Sorta…I kinda had to considering all that happened…But, it's not like they couldn't have said, 'Willow, stay here!  We'll help you get through this!'"  She snorted.  "Yeah right…Like that would ever happen."  She frowned at the way her thoughts were turning.  "But…I shouldn't be so hard on them…This whole ordeal was my fault anyway."  She sighed as she continued walking up the sidewalk to her front door.

"I'm going to get drunk," Willow grumbled as she slammed the front door to her house.  "Yup-yup.  A nice margarita or two dozen, and lots and lots of chocolate."  She strode determinedly to her kitchen, and began to ransack her refrigerator.

"Hershey's…Godiva…Toblerone…Ferrero Rocher…Hmm…Such a hard decision…" she grinned.  "Screw it, I'll eat 'em all!"  She gathered the ten-pound bundle of chocolate in her arms and grabbed the margarita cooler before shutting the fridge door.  As she trudged up the stairs to her bedroom, goodies in hand, she continued to mutter to herself.  

"Chocolate and alcohol…Mom's definitely going to be pissed…But hey, it's not like she's here to scream herself hoarse at me—"

And suddenly, her mother appeared out of nowhere.  A few seconds of staring at each other in shock, and then the screaming began.

"WILLOW ANNE ROSENBERG, HOW DARE YOU EAT MY CHOCOLATE AND STEAL MY ALCOHOL!!!  AS THE HEAD OF THIS HOUSE, I SAY THAT—" 

"Mom, go to hell."

And said screaming banshee disappeared in a rush of flames.  While screaming, of course.  

Willow blinked, then continued going up the stairs.  

"Normally, I'd feel guilty…But she needs a vacation."

She entered her old room.  And blinked.

"…Okay…I'm not drunk yet, I know that…So…WHY THE HELL IS MY ROOM AN OFFICE??!!!"

She stormed into the newly refurbished office, her face the perfect picture of unbelievable fury (basically, EVERYTHING was red).  She surveyed the room coolly, then said, "Make my room the way it was."

And in a flash, the office turned back into the familiar bedroom she had spent her childhood in.  

She smiled happily as she walked over to her bed.  Once she dumped all of the contents in her arms onto the bed, she promptly fell facedown onto the fluffy comforter.  Sighing in ecstasy, she rolled over, eyed her loot with glee, and screamed, "CHAAAARGE!!!!!!!!" before tackling.   

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A red-haired girl lay sprawled on her bed, content.  A multitude of chocolate wrappers were scattered around her room, and the margarita cooler had long since been emptied.  And refilled.  About five dozen times.  But it wasn't enough.  It still didn't liquefy the images of that day's events from her head:

Giles blind.  "Although I know he was thankful for it during Buffy and Spike's snogging sessions…"

Buffy and Spike in love.  "Sickening to watch," Willow recalled, "but any idiot could see that some of the feelings/lust was actually mutual…Which is sickening to think about…"

Xander as a literal demon-magnet.  "Well…at least more than he usually was…Though why Anya was jealous of a Chaos demon getting into Xander, I'll never know…"

"All in all, today was shit," Willow slurred as her head swam (and nearly drowned) with dizziness.  

To make matters worse, she still could not stop her "Will-Be-Done" spell.  Her visit with D'Hoffryn, while an eye-opener, failed to end her casting.

"You cast that spell in passion…Passion meant to hurt, and to wound those around you," D'Hoffryn had said to her.  "Those spells cannot be taken lightly.  'Tis best to let it end on its own.  To stop the spell too soon would cause a great backlash.  And I'm quite sure you wouldn't want it back threefold."

An '_Eep_' had been her reply.  Followed by a plea of, _"But what about my friends?  Can't you reverse those wishes?"_

D'Hoffryn had frowned before answering.  "You do not wish to let the wishes continue?  Like I said before, you would make a wonderful addition to the vengeance demon community—" "NO!  My friends are suffering because of ME.  They don't deserve this…Please, just stop this…" D'Hoffryn sighed.  "You do not want this, then?"  At her very enthusiastic nod, he had sighed again.  "Very well…" And after reversing the chaos, he sent her back to the aftermath. 

And what an aftermath…As well as lots of cookies…Which Spike seemed to take an awful lot of liking to…For a vampire, at least…

She had hoped the spell would have worn off by now.  It had been a full day, after all. But, since her mother was now roasting in eternal damnation…apparently, it hadn't.  But she really didn't mind that at all…The woman deserved it.  She nearly burned her own daughter at the stake, for Merlin's sake!  Fire for fire, and all that rot.  "And I think I've been spending way too much time with Spike," Willow muttered.  So now, a pleasantly-tipsy-but-slowly-turning-hangovered Willow was forced to wait.  The chocolate and alcohol had officially run out.  Of course, she could have conjured up some more, if she really wanted to.  However (and Willow sighed at this), that was not the way to be a proper witch.  To use magic for your own small pleasures was selfish, as well as forbidden in the Wiccan ways… "As well as another way for me to royally screw things up again and have another something bite me in the ass," Willow pointed out to herself.  "Besides, I have done enough spells to last me a lifetime…I'm better off just going spell-free." She sat up and looked around her room, her eyes searching for something to keep her occupied until the spell wore off.  They fell upon a book on the nightstand by her bed.  A wide grin split her face.  

'_Perfect_,' she thought, and slowly picked up the book.  She lay back down on her stomach and began to reread "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets", content once again.

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A few hours later, Willow sniffled as she closed the book.  She couldn't finish it.

Why, one might ask?  After all, she was Willow Rosenberg, Hacker Genius Extraordinaire!  Surely, she could finish a mere child's book.

But, she has her reasons…

"::sob::  IT'S.  ::sniffle::  SO.  ::wail::  SAAAAAADDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  ::tears flowing down face::  WHY DID HE HAVE TO DIE??!!!!"

Now then, she had to be referring to one person, since only one man died in "The Chamber of Secrets", correct?  Therefore, she could only be sobbing over…Yes…

Tom.

Riddle.

Not Lord Voldemort, mind you.  Sure, she's had a wolf and a computer demon for boyfriends (as well as those little flings with Angelus and Spike once upon a time…and that Fluke with Zeppo-Xander…), but she has better taste than that ugly thing.  

No, no, she means Tom Riddle: Sexy Slytherin and Evil Mastermind.  And who she also suspects had a little 'thing' going on with Minerva McGonagall back in the day.  Of course, when he found out about her 'friendship' with Albus Dumbledore, naturally, he got pissed and turned all nice and evil-ish…So that would mean that it's McGonagall's fault that he turned into Lord Volde--

Well…Let's not talk about that now…

As Willow finished drying her tears, she glared at the book that had mysteriously ended up across the room.  Well, glared as much as she could for a happily drunk person…

"Stupid Harry Potter," she mumbled, "How could he do that?  I mean, to kill such a hottie??!!!  Well, alright, so maybe Harry didn't exactly notice his hotness, considering that he was twelve and probably not gay…Well, not gay at all, considering his future obsession with Cho Chang…But we all know he'll end up with Draco anyway…But he isn't gay at the moment, since no one can kill a hot guy…"  Willow fumbled as her already-flimsy excuse continued to crumble.  

"But…but…hotness…" her voice trailed off as her mind began to grow fuzzy.  Well…fuzzier…

Aw hell, it was mush.

And to make matters worse, she couldn't remember a spell to cure the fuzzy-mushiness…

And once again, she smacked herself for thinking about resorting to more evil spells…

Even if it would get rid of this fuzzy-mushiness…

Tempting…

Very…tempting…

"NO!!!!!!"  She grabbed her pillow to smother her screams…Not like they'd be heard or anything, considering all her neighbors were elderly with a tendency to wear their underwear over their clothing…But that's besides the point…

She rolled over with a groan, her hands coming up to rub at her temples.  The Riverdance was going on inside her head…And the Lord of the Dance seemed to be doing a solo at the moment…

'_Tap…tappitytaptaptappitytaptaptappitytaptaptappity…taptaptaptap…taptap…tappitytaptap…_'

She screamed at the guy taking residence behind her forehead to stop.  He just kept tapping…and tapping…and tapping some more…She was going insane, she knew it…She just needed something, ANYTHING, to take her mind off of the hangover-man that was threatening to split her skull open…

But, once again, no spell came to mind.  At least, none that would help…Yet…There WAS one that kept sticking out in her mind…It was nagging in the back of her head, struggling to override that damn tapping…

'_Technically, it's not really a true spell…I HAD made it up to try and wake Mom  up from that naïveté that plagues most of the residents of Sunnyhell…So…It probably wouldn't work…_'

Alas, this was the itsy-bitsy-teeny-weeny rational part of Willow's brain talking.  

What did this mean?

Simple: the drunken, in hangover-hell section of her mind was the bigger, humungo-dominant one at the moment.

And it was saying, "_Do the spell…DO THE SPELL!!!_"

And she did.

"**PRINCE OF NIGHT, I SUMMON YOU! COME FILL ME WITH YOUR BLACK, NAUGHTY EVIL!**"

And the tapping stopped.

Unfortunately, Willow believed she was now hallucinating.

Because there was a strange-yet-handsome man standing in the middle of her bedroom.

"…Er…Hello," said the strange hot guy.  

"…Hi," squeaked out Willow, who was coherent enough to notice that the man had a British accent.  '_Extra yumminess…And he somehow looks strangely familiar, too…Black hair, green eyes…Pale skin…Arrogant smirk…Wait a second…_'

As she looked past the arrogant—yet cute—smirk on his face, she gazed upon a crest on his…robes…It was green and silver.

"You…you're…Tom Riddle?"

He arched a delicate eyebrow.  "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.  And who might you b—"

But he stopped as he realized that she wasn't listening.  Considering that she had fainted and all…

"…Bloody hell."

End of Part One

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:) Did you like it?

I hope this is long enough to make up for my…absence, these past 3 months…::blush::

And if Willow seems to be a bit OOC…Ergh…Well…Wait 'til you see Tom Riddle…Oy…:)

Part Two should be up pretty soon…And I think I might actually be truthful this time…

Heh, go figure…

:)

REVIEW!!!  I'd love to hear your thoughts!!


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